


An American Asset

by anna12o



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: POV Multiple, Past Abuse, sherrinford
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2018-12-04 13:35:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11556276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anna12o/pseuds/anna12o
Summary: Sherlock and John are introduced to a young woman who has been living in Sherrinford for several years. After what happened with Eros her therapists think it will be a good idea to try and integrate her back into society. With the help of Mycroft, Sherlock, and John, will she be able to survive in the real world?





	1. An Introduction

Sherlock looked into the room via cameras. They were up five levels and in a rather expensive looking office, clearly designed to intimidate and impress, like a peacock showing off its feathers. There was a young woman inside what looked like a completely ordinary teenager’s room. The walls were squared, the first was covered in notes taped to it, string connecting them together between the notes flowers could be seen but the words could not be made out, another was just a solid bookshelf, crammed full of novels, and the third she was currently painting on, she held her palate in one hand, just the front of an old drawing notebook, she swirled the colors together as she saw fit before moving them to the wall in front of her, through the black and white cameras Sherlock couldn’t tell what she was painting, it just looked like a multitude of lines and on the top half of the wall various dots. The fourth wall was glass so that visitors could speak to her.  
The girl herself didn’t particularly look like anything unusual. Her hair was pulled into a bun at the crown of her skull and there were several paintbrushes that she would occasionally swap out as she worked. She wore an oversized shirt that fell to her thighs and a pair of loosely fitting blue jeans.  
The room was notably furnished as well, with a queen sized bed, a wardrobe, table, and chairs. On the table was a chess set, ready to play, and a mirror stood in one of the corners of the room. A door led presumably to her bathroom. “Who is she?” Sherlock asked, not bothering to turn towards his older brother.  
“(Y/F/N).” Mycroft said.  
“And why is she here?” John asked.  
“She’s an American, so we didn’t take notice of her intellect until she was twelve and began seeing a therapist, along with her three siblings. Her father abusive and her mother a pathological liar, they divorced, things got messy. It was when her therapist decided to attempt a series of tests, having already noted her intelligence, that she came to our attention.”  
“And how intelligent is she, exactly?” asked John.  
“Dangerously so, and she’s still only a teenager, heaven knows what she will be capable when fully grown. We brought her here when her father killed every single one of her family members, and then when he’d tried killing her, she killed him. It wasn’t easy getting her into our custody, but the American Government soon realized that they could not handle her, and we have much more experience with her type. After what happened with Euros, I knew that keeping her isolated as such could only lead to disaster.”  
“Okay, but, her cell is different from Euros’s, why’s that?” John asked.  
“She had a somewhat normal childhood, at least for the first few years of her life, she was of course isolated due to her intelligence but she at least had friends, the only act of violence she has ever displayed was killing her father, in self defence.”  
“So why are we here?” asked Sherlock.  
“We’re going to try and integrate her back into society, while holding onto the advantage she gives us over our enemies, and we’ll need your help.”  
“Our help, how can we help?” asked John.  
“Being around people she can relate to will greatly help her as she has had no contact with the outside world since she was thirteen.”  
“With my intelligence and John’s PTSD, we make perfect candidates.” Sherlock concluded.  
“Wait a minute, you want her to move into 221B?” asked John incredulously.  
“No, don’t be absurd, she won’t be living with you, just helping you with your cases.”  
“And what about school?” asked John.  
“What do you mean?”  
“School, she’s about the age of a high schooler, right?”  
“She has no need for school.” Mycroft said dismissively.  
“Maybe not for the learning aspect, but for the social aspect, you’ve said that she’s been isolated for years now, she needs to know how to speak with people her own age, how to communicate and how to socialize properly.”  
“Are you suggesting that we send one of Britain’s best kept secrets to high school Dr. Watson?”  
“That is exactly what I’m suggesting, and I can’t be the only one to have done so, surely at least some of these therapists have realized that she needs to socialize.”  
“That’s why we’re introducing her to you two.”  
“We, are at least twice her age, send her to high school Mycroft.”  
“Are we going to meet her or not?” Sherlock interrupted.  
“Yes, yes, of course, come along then, baby brother.”  
They were led down a multitude of corridors before they arrived at her cell. She was still painting when they entered but looked up upon hearing footsteps. She gave a small smile when she saw them. “Hello Mycroft.” she said in a polite voice.  
“Hello (Y/N), I have two people I would like to introduce you to, this is Sherlock Holmes, and Dr. John Watson.”  
“Holmes, any relation?”  
“Yes, we’re brothers.” said Sherlock.  
“Really? You never mentioned you had any siblings Mycroft.”  
“Yes, well, rather like yourself it’s complicated.”  
“I see, well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson.”  
“Sherlock and John are fine.” Sherlock said and John murmured an agreement.  
“I see, and, John, if you don’t mind my asking, Afghanistan or Iraq?”  
“Okay, seriously?” John asked, he seemed irritated.  
“I apologize, I didn’t mean to offend you.” she said, even as Sherlock chuckled.  
“He’s not offended, just surprised, as that is the first thing I asked him as well.” Sherlock explained and began really looking around the cell. The flowers he could see were multicolored, just lines without being filled in, and the wall was pure white. The papers were written on in neat cursive handwriting and he could see a few of them were drawings now as well. The wall she was painting was made up of blues, purples, reds, oranges, and yellows. “Is it a sunset or rise?” Sherlock asked.  
“I call it Northern Sunrise.” she replied, looking at the wall, “The ventilation grate was a bit of an eyesore so I fixed it, but it’s on the Northern wall, hence the name.”  
“Yes, and what have we told you about painting your walls?” asked Mycroft.  
“I’m sorry.” she dropped her eyes down, looking genuinely melancholy, but then perked back up as she moved over to her table. “But, I did find a few more terrorist attacks, if that helps.” She said, like a child eager to impress. She placed it into the slot, sending it through and Mycroft picked it up, looking over the paper.  
“Excellent work.” he said, almost proudly. “Now then, back to the purpose of this meeting. You’ll be leaving Sherrinford very soon.” the idea seemed to terrify her. “Don’t worry, we aren’t abandoning you, we’d like for you to try socializing more, we believe that Sherlock and Dr. Watson here will be able to help with that.”  
“Really?” she asked, seeming hopeful.  
“Indeed, now, pack your bags.”  
“I don’t have any bags.”  
“Ah yes.” the door opened and in walked a guard, holding a duffel bag and several suitcases and another came in behind him with folded up boxes, sending them all through to her. She giggled with delight and began rushing around to pack.  
Mycroft turned to Sherlock and John. “You should be on your way now, I will contact you once she has settled into her new living quarters.” the two men left.


	2. A Relocation

***Third Person POV***  
Mycroft’s estate was anything but small, and something he took pride in. (Y/N)’s room he’d specially picked out for her, he’d taken a shining to the polite young woman soon after her incarceration, and though he had no doubt she could she never tried to manipulate him, and they got along quite nicely over the course of her stay in Sherrinford. That’s why he’d thought it best to give her a room with a view. Not much of one albeit, but still a nice view of the city out of her window. When the entered the room she immediately began scurrying about excitedly at the prospect of a room with no cameras all to herself.  
“I’ll leave you to get settled then.” Mycroft said, a soft smile tugging on his lips, but he was surprised when the young woman embraced him in a tight hug, her thank you muffled by his suit. “You’re quite welcome.”  
With that he left her and went about his business, her belongings had already arrived before her and she spent a few hours setting up the room as he went over the various pamphlets and paperwork that went along with registering a student for high school. There was an awful lot of paperwork, and though there were undoubtedly numerous people who could handle raising a teenager better than the ice man there was no one better suited to dealing with a young person with her level of intelligence, and certainly no one more experienced.  
Several hours later she opened the door to his office, no doubt having deduced where he was. “Finished setting up have you?” he asked without looking up from the paperwork in front of him.  
“Yeah.” was her response as she plopped down in one of his office’s chairs. He glanced up for a moment, she looked exhausted, although that was hardly surprising. He sat up a bit straighter. “Tell me, do you enjoy Chinese food?” he asked.  
“What I tasted of it before, yes.”  
“Well then, let’s order some takeaway, shall we?” she seemed to perk up at that and Mycroft stood, leading her from the office to the kitchen where he removed one of the many takeaway menus on his fridge to look through. She didn’t know what anything was so he ended up ordering for the both of them, and once it arrived she was eager to listen to his instructions on how to eat the food and what tasted best with which condiments. They sat together in his sitting room, migrating from actually on the chairs and couches to just on the floor in front of the coffee table, him telling her funny stories about his little brother and Dr. Watson. They laughed together like that until (Y/N) fell asleep, resting her head on a small empty space and Mycroft ended up scooping her into his arms and carrying her to bed.  
The next day she wandered down the stairs, a sleepy look on her face as she rubbed her tired eyes. They went over school stuff over an ordered in breakfast, the uniform she’d need to wear, what classes she’d need to take, so on and so forth. After they’d finished she went back upstairs to get dressed and when she’d returned Mycroft led her outside once again, into a car that drove to his brothers’ flat. Inside sounded like a third world war had broken out and when Mycroft knocked on the door a quiet looking older woman answered the door.  
“Hello Mrs. Hudson.” Mycroft said under a thin veil of politeness.  
“Hello Mycroft.” she replied in the same tone. “I wouldn’t go up there if I were you, they’re going at it again, better to sit this one out I think, who’s this then?” she seemed to have just noticed (Y/N).  
“Ah, yes, this is (Y/F/N), (Y/N), this is Mrs. Hudson.” he introduced.  
“A pleasure to meet you ma’am.” the young woman said, stepping forward to gently shake Mrs. Hudson’s hand.  
“Nice to meet you.” Mrs. Hudson replied. “Why don’t you come in for a cuppa while he goes and sorts his brother out.” she said as Mycroft went up the stairs, leading (Y/N) into a small, quaint kitchen. As she began bustling about making tea and (Y/N) offered assistance. “Oh no dear, you just sit right down, it’s really no bother, but thank you for offering.”  
More yelling could be heard upstairs as the two women sat down with their tea. “Now, tell me dear, what’s a nice young lady like you doing with a Holmes?”  
“It’s a bit of a long story really, I won’t bore you with the details, but, the short version is the British Government is not content staying in Britain.” She replied and Mrs. Hudson laughed at that, both women jumped at the sound of gunshots.  
“Oh, those three are going to be the absolute death of me!” she exclaimed.  
“Perhaps we should go investigate, before they do any more damage?” (Y/N) suggested and both rose, going up the stairs. When they opened the door Sherlock was tackling Mycroft to the ground and (Y/N) hurried in to pull him off before he killed his brother, or the other way around. John helped in containing Sherlock as (Y/N) pulled Mycroft to his feet. A baby could be heard crying and she followed the sound as Mrs. Hudson and John tried to calm down a clearly stoned Sherlock.  
A little girl was sitting in a playpen nearby and (Y/N) scooped her up, rocking her back and forth to calm her down. Only then did she realize that the room was completely silent and she looked up to see everyone looking at her. “Oh, sorry, just, she was crying, and…” she trailed off, setting the calmed child down.  
“Now then, brother dear, do you have a case or not?” asked Mycroft and all attention turned back to Sherlock. He groaned, shrugging off John and Mrs. Hudson to go over to the wall where he’d tacked up several things from a recent case Lestrade had given him to the wall.  
“Take a look.” Sherlock said and she turned towards the wall, going up to it and reading a few things. After a moment she turned towards Sherlock.  
“It was the brother.” she stated simply and Sherlock smirked, sending a text to Lestrade.  
Mycroft left them like that, going over all the old case files that Lestrade had sent over. That evening he picked her up and they went out to eat. The next day she went to school for the first time in years.


	3. An Interesting First Day

She nervously picked at her uniform in the seat of Mycroft’s car. “Stop fidgeting.” he said, not looking up from his paper.  
“Sorry.” she murmured, shifting in her seat.  
He sighed, setting down the paper. “Are you nervous, dear?”  
“A bit, yeah.”  
“Well, I can assure you there is nothing to be nervous about, it is just school I’m sure you’ll do fine.”  
“Yes, the school part isn’t what concerns me, I’m more wondering how to speak with someone my own age.”  
“You’re an excellent conversationalist.”  
“With adults, that’s all I’ve been speaking to for awhile now. I do know about development, teenage years are a crucial time in healthy normative development.” she said, looking out the window.  
“Well, you aren’t normal, there is no reason why you would have a normative development.” he said offhandedly.  
“Still, I’d rather avoid any alienation.” the car came to a stop and she scooped up her backpack, slinging it over her shoulder. Mycroft picked up his briefcase and she followed him inside. A friendly looking woman greeted them, secretary, her husband was cheating on her and she was getting petty revenge by sleeping with his sister.  
You shook your head to clear away the nervous deductions you were making. “You must be Mr. Holmes.” said the woman, her name plate read Georgina Jenkins and she had a strong accent. “The headmistress’s office is right through that door, go on in.” she pointed at the door and you again followed Mycroft. He knocked and we were beckoned inside. And there was the sister. Sitting at the desk was a professional looking woman, her hair pulled into a tight bun at the top of her head and she wore an ill fitting brown suit.  
“Please, sit down.” she said in a pleasant voice and you complied. “I’ve looked over all of the paperwork, and everything seems to be in order. Welcome to Woodside High school.” she said, shaking both of our hands. You went over your class list and you said a brief and awkward goodbye to Mycroft before the secretary showed you around the school, leading you to your class, first period had just begun.  
“Mr. Reid.” said Jenkins. “This is your new student, (Y/F/N).” You knew there was nothing to be afraid of, but your heart was still hammering in your chest as you stepped into the classroom, looking around. Deductions were filling your head as the secretary left, you looked away from the students and to the teacher. He was wearing a very bad toupe, his gut stuck out but he looked pretty happy nonetheless.  
“Welcome.” he said in a cheerful voice that would no doubt get old fast. “Is there anything you’d like to tell the class about yourself?” he asked.  
“No.” was your soft spoken reply.  
“Well, go ahead and sit down.” he gestured at an empty seat on the front row. You slid into it, setting your bag down. The lesson was rather irritatingly boring, English. You didn’t really pay much attention as you already knew everything he was saying. After that came science, History, Art, and lunch slid a feeling of dread into your stomach as you got your food, looking around for someplace to sit.  
“Hey.” said someone as they walked past you. “You’re that new girl, right?” she had a bright smile, her face covered in freckles, soft blonde hair fell to her shoulders, she was depressed and self harmed.  
“Yeah,(Y/N).” you introduced.  
“C’mon, you can sit at our table.” she offered.  
“Thanks.” you said, following her over to where a group of people were sitting. You took a seat next to the girl, her name was Annie. She introduced everyone around the table and you made some nice comfortable conversation, that is until a silence fell over the table as a new group of people approached.  
“I see the loser squad has a new member.” said a girl with way too much makeup on.  
“Go away Angela.” Annie murmured.  
“Did you fucking say something to me?” Angela asked and Annie began fiddling with her food. “Yeah, that’s what I fucking thought.”  
“Does bullying others make you feel better about your eating disorder and crippling self esteem issues?” You asked.  
“Excuse me?” she asked.  
“And your boyfriend there is trying to cover up the fact that he’s gay by showering you with attention at every possible opportunity, not to mention your friend over there who is addicted to cocaine.” You said, standing up.  
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Angela asked, walking over to me and shoving my shoulder.  
“I’m the one person that you do not want to fuck with.” You said. That’s when she slapped you. You returned with a punch, blood shooting out of her nose. And that’s where things escalated and the fighting really broke out. Her boyfriend stepped up to fight you while the people who were still sitting stood up to fight as well, backing you up. Soon after everyone in the cafeteria was fighting someone else and then came administration, pulling people apart.  
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” asked Angela as you were pulled apart, you’d ended up fighting again at some point in the chaos.  
“I’m American!” was your response and you were tugged into the office.  
Mycroft was called, but he was rather unfortunately in a meeting with the prime minister, but he would send somebody. That’s how Sherlock ended up strolling in. “What happened?” he asked.  
“Ms. (Y/L/N)-”  
“Not you.” he cut off the headmistress and turned towards you.  
“I pointed out a few obvious deductions, and they didn’t take it well.” was your soft response and he laughed at that. In the end the kids at your table stood up for you, and were considered to be much more trustworthy than the others, especially after drug tests were run. You didn’t get in trouble and were allowed to go back to class.  
At the end of the day however you was some what dreading what Mycroft would say as you slid into the back seat and the chauffeur shut the door behind you. “A fight on your first day.” he said after a painful stretch of silence.  
“In all fairness, I did not throw the first blow.” You were surprised to hear him laughing. “I think it would be best to keep this off the records.” he chuckled out and you found yourself laughing along.


	4. A Home Cooked Meal

A few weeks passed without incident. You would go to school and afterwards would join Sherlock on solving cases, then go home and do homework until dinnertime with Mycroft, you would watch a movie and then off to bed.  
It was after that few weeks that came a break of two weeks between classes. You ended up sleeping until noon on the first day and when you finally woke up there was a note waiting for you, letting you know that Mycroft had gone to work and he’d left his credit card so you could get food.  
You called for a taxi and when it arrived you asked for it to take you to the nearest grocer. You'd googled to make sure you weren't ripped off and faked your accent so you seemed like a local. Before her death your mother had taught you to cook and that’s what you’d decided to do. You’d done a thorough inventory of Mycroft’s kitchen, and although he had every conceivable appliance known to mankind there was not a speck of food in sight. So you decided to make a roast in his crock pot. You got all of the ingredients, as well as a few groceries and some fast food for lunch and then went back, setting to work making the roast, side dishes of corn and potatoes, and a chocolate lava cake for dessert. It really was a simple process.  
***  
Work had been long and exhausting and I was looking forward to take away and conversation with (Y/N), and I did wonder what she had done with her free day. When I walked through the door however I was very much surprised to smell something cooking. I followed my nose to the kitchen where she was stirring something on the stove.  
She looked up when I entered the kitchen. “Oh, hello Mycroft, I, uh, hope you don’t mind but I made dinner.” she didn’t meet my gaze and she seemed embarrassed.  
“I’m sure it is delicious, but you didn’t have to.”  
“I know, I wanted to, as sort of a thank you, for everything you’ve done for me, um, it’s finished, if you’re hungry.”  
“Yes, let me just go put this in my office.” I said, indicating my briefcase. By the time I returned she’d already dished up two plates and placed them at the set table. I sat down across from her. It had been a long time since I’d had a home cooked meal and I was famished.  
I took a bite of the roast and it simply fell apart in my mouth, I couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped my lips.  
***  
Mycroft’s eyes rolled back into his head at the first bite and he moaned. You smirked, taking a bite yourself, it wasn’t bad. You ate in silence, though it wasn’t awkward, you had never seen Mycroft eat so quickly, even getting seconds before you stood to clear the table as he sat back in his chair, looking content.  
When you stood his eyes popped open. “I simply could not let you clear the dishes after cooking such a marvelous meal.” he said, beginning to rise.  
“Wait.” You said and he paused. “Just, sit back down, there’s more.” he did so, if a bit apprehensively and you dished both of you up plates of cake. When you reentered his eyes were closed once again, he’d had a long day at work, lots of paperwork and a stressful meeting by the looks of it. You placed the cake in front of him and his eyes opened again, going to what he had been given and a look of joy passed over his features as you sat down and we began eating. It wasn’t bad, you’d say you did a pretty good job to be honest but Mycroft seemed to find the cake delicious and practically inhaled the thing.  
This time he was the first to rise, picking up both of our dishes. “Why don’t you go in and queue up a movie.” he suggested and you nodded your head in agreement. You’d been making your way through a series of old westerns, the spaghetti westerns to be specific, a series of westerns filmed in Italy, tonight you put on The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly and Mycroft returned, holding a glass of wine for himself and a soda for you and you sat on the couch.  
“Perhaps.” Mycroft said as the previews rolled. “You would care to try some wine?”  
You’d never had any wine before, and although you weren’t one hundred percent certain on the drinking laws of London you were sure that seventeen was underage, which you brought to his attention. He chuckled in reply. “I’m certain we can make an exception.” he said and you hesitantly took the glass. You knew you were at a high risk for addiction, that’s why with every cold you got, every illness that befell you your drug intake was carefully regulated. You took a small sip, letting the liquid cover your tongue and you wrinkled your nose at the taste, causing Mycroft to chuckle. “First sips often aren’t the best, try again.” he said and you did, it wasn’t so bad this time.  
You hummed in consideration, handing the glass back to Mycroft. “Definitely interesting.” You said softly and then settled back into the couch to watch the movie. As you finished your drink about half way through Mycroft had refilled his glass and you found yourself taking small sips as he offered it to you. Perhaps it was the wine but you were soon nestled into his side and by the time the credits rolled you were both sound asleep.


	5. A Garden Party

When you awoke it took you a moment to realize where you were and then you blushed. Your right arm was tucked behind Mycroft while the left rested on his chest and his arm had been draped over your shoulders.  
A blush covered your cheeks and in a mixture of embarrassment and being comfortable you didn’t want to move. Still, you knew you couldn’t stay in that position forever and you shifted, sitting up. Mycroft awoke at that point, producing his own blush as he removed his arm from around you.  
You stood and went for the kitchen, finding that Mycroft had cleaned everything up, putting away leftovers and washing dishes in record time, so you went for the shower. As you left the bathroom wrapped in a towel you bumped into Mycroft. “Sorry.” you murmured, clutching the towel more tightly.  
“It was entirely my fault.” He said, then changed the subject, “I’m going to a garden party that I am required to be at, and I wondered if perhaps you would care to join me.”  
“Yeah, I’ll just get dressed.” You said and went to your room. You had a sapphire sundress that fell to just below your knees with a halter top that you pulled on with some matching flats. You blow dried your hair, pulling it back into a high ponytail before going downstairs to find Mycroft. He was in his office doing paperwork.  
“When are we leaving?” You asked and he looked up, pausing when he saw me and then looking at his watch.  
“The chauffeur will be pulling around soon, shall we get our coats?” he asked and you smiled, nodding in agreement. The day was sunny so you just held the coats rather than putting them on and climbed into the car.  
About ten minutes into the pleasant drive Mycroft began to speak. “Now, I know you’ve never been to anything like this but don’t worry, there will be others there your age, and I’m certain you’ll have no trouble keeping up with conversation should you choose to stay near me, and there will be food there so I suggest you eat something since you haven't had any breakfast.”  
“Alright.” You said quietly and began to feel skipping breakfast. When you arrived Mycroft offered you his arm and you were greeted by well dressed butlers who offered to take your coats. When you entered everything seemed pleasant enough, although you were the only woman there not wearing a hat. Mycroft instantly steered you over to the foods table, after you’d eaten enough for his approval you began making your way around.  
He was right about the others your age, but you were much more interested in Mycroft and his colleagues, but that’s when you noticed that one of the butlers was nervous, and armed. You tapped on Mycroft’s shoulder to get his attention and he turned towards you, clearly wondering why you would interrupt his conversation with the Prime Minister. You stood on your toes to whisper into his ear. “One of the butlers is going to kill someone.” that instantly had his attention and he excused himself for a moment, steering you over to some trees.  
“Which one?” he asked.  
“Over by the foods table, he looks nervous and he’s got a gun.” at that moment that same butler walked up next to one of the men and they began walking away from the party.  
“Wait here.” Mycroft instructed and walked off.  
You stood nervously, fidgeting with the hem of your dress while you waited for Mycroft to return, turning when you heard someone speaking behind you. “Hello.” it was a boy a few years older than you, with him was two girls and another two boys.  
“Hello.” I greeted.  
“I’m Charles, this is James, Harry, Victoria, and Annette.”  
“(Y/N).” You said, offering a handshake. He took it and though his grip was rather pathetic you handshake was firm, as you’d been taught to do and when he pulled his hand away he shook it a bit, chuckling.  
“Who are you here with?” Victoria asked.  
“Pardon?”  
“All of our parents are government officials, they dragged us along, who brought you?”  
“Mycroft Holmes.” You said simply and they seemed surprised.  
“I was unaware that Mr. Holmes had a daughter.” James said.  
“I’m not his daughter, it’s, complicated.”  
“Well, whatever it is, I think we can all agree these government functions are the dullest things imaginable.” Annette said. “Let’s go have a bit of fun, shall we?”  
“What do you have in mind?” You asked.  
“Well, there’s a pool inside.” Harry smirked.  
“Ah, ah, ah,” Charles said. “We need to know if we can trust this girl or not.”  
“Yes, are you a rat?” Victoria asked. “Or are you fun?”  
“I’m not a rat.”You assured them. “Besides, snitches get stitches.”  
They laughed at that. “Americans are so strange, but we need proof.” James said.  
“I can handle any challenge you throw at me.” You said confidently.  
“Really? What makes you so sure of yourself?” Annette asked.  
“Two older siblings and about a dozen older cousins tends to toughen a person up, plus anyone who went to an American public school will tell you that the weak are quickly weeded out.”  
Another round of laughter. “Very well, your challenge, is to get us into the pool without getting busted.” Charles said.  
“Piece of cake.” You smirked, leading the way towards the building and shooting Mycroft an inconspicuous text saying that I was with the other teenagers before finding an entrance to the building. A security pad served as a lock.  
“You can’t pick this lock, and it’s impossible to hack them.” Harry said.  
“Not impossible, just difficult, but I don’t need to guess, I can figure out the code."  
“There are hundreds of combinations.” Annette said.  
“No, see the four that have been pressed most often? Those are the four parts of the code, no repeats.”  
“Even with those four, the possibilities are countless.” Victoria said.  
“Wrong again, a simple calculation shows that there are 24 possible combinations.”  
“You can’t put them all in, it’ll set off an alarm after three wrong attempts.” Charles said.  
“Yes, but you’ve got to be careful with these things, the first number of the code will always be the one most worn down, the first one in this is a zero, so it’s not a year. The other numbers are one seven and nine, since people are more likely to chose a number they’ll remember it’s probably a date, that leaves us with 0917 or 0719, considering which one is more worn down I’ll go with 0719.” You said, pressing in the numbers and the door beeped, clicking open.  
“Well played.” Victoria said and they slipped past you inside and you shut the door behind you.  
“What about cameras?” Harry asked.  
“All security is going to be focused on the outside, don’t be sneaky, since we used the pass code if the manner in which we present ourselves suggests that we belong here, they won’t care, and if anyone asks we’ll say that we were given the code so we could use the restrooms.” You shrugged as you moved further inside, unlocking keypads as you got to them until you opened the door to a large pool.  
Grinning everyone slipped inside, stripping off their clothes and skinny dipping into the pool. You stood nervously on the edge. “C’mon, or are you scared?” Victoria called from the water and you rolled your eyes.  
“Hardly.” You said and stripped off your dress and underthings, diving into the water. Surfacing next to the group they smirked.  
“I supposed Americans do have guts.” Charles said.  
After a few minutes of splashing and swimming around Harry swam towards the edge of the pool. “We should probably get back before anyone notices we’re gone.” everyone murmured in agreement, swimming to climb out.  
“There are towels in the locker rooms.” Victoria said, climbing out and leading the way. “I don’t suppose you know how to unlock these?”  
You rolled your eyes again, pressing your ear against one and listening for the clicks, the door opened and you reached in, pulling out a towel and wrapping it around yourself before unlocking a few other lockers for the others. Everyone dried off and got dressed. “You’re alright (Y/N).” Charles said as we were leaving the building. “The next time we see you, you’re definitely welcome in our group.”  
We spent the rest of the function talking and joking around. They fell silent when Mycroft approached. “We need to go.” he said.  
“Okay, see you guys later.” You said, following him out.  
“I see you had a pleasant time.” he said.  
“Yeah, it was okay.”  
“You made some friends at least.”  
“I suppose.”


	6. An Unexpected Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is shorter than the others, sorry.

“So, what happened with the killer?” You asked, looking out the window of the limo.  
“He was apprehended, and I really must thank you for saving my life.”  
“He was after you then?”  
“Yes.”  
“I’m happy to help.” You continued on in silence and the driver pulled to the front of the house.  
“I’ll come back later, but there is some paperwork I must attend to at the moment.”  
“Okay. I’ll see you at dinner.” You said, sliding out and nodding to the driver who shut the door behind you. When you walked inside the house was silent, but there was someone there, someone was there, little things that had changed since you left, footprints in the carpet that were the wrong size for Mycroft, you, and the maid. You walked into the kitchen, unsurprised to see a man standing there.  
“James Moriarty.” You said.  
“My reputation precedes me.” he said.  
“Your reputation as a dead man.”  
“Really? That’s a bit dull.”  
“I take it you know who I am then.”  
“Yes, you’re the little genius the Iceman is so very fond of.”  
“So what, are you here to kill me? If so then, please, don’t monologue, just do it.”  
“Kill you? Um no, don’t be obvious.” he said. “I’d much rather kidnap you, I’m curious, to see how far they’ll go to get you back.”  
“I doubt they’ll try very hard, I am an asset, but they won’t waste too much time getting me back, easier to just leave it alone.” You said, walking over to the fridge and looking inside, You’d taken to keeping it stocked and you grabbed two sodas, offering him one he took it and you leaned against the fridge, fiddling with the label.  
“Not much one for self esteem, are you? Don’t worry about it, I’m not going to hurt you, unless I have to, but please, don’t embarrass yourself with a struggle.”  
“I won’t, I’ll come with you.” You said, setting the soda down on the counter and following him back outside where another limo was waiting.  
“I suppose there’s no point in blindfolding you, you’ll no doubt be able to work out where we end up.”  
“Undoubtedly.” You said, climbing into the car.


	7. A Concerning Return

"I'm home!" Mycroft called as he entered the house, taking off his coat and hanging it up. He was surprised not to hear (Y/N) reply but figured she probably had headphones on. Putting his umbrella up he went to her room first, brow wrinkling in confusion when she wasn't there. He paused to listen, there was no water running so she wasn't in the shower. When he walked past the bathroom the door was open so she wasn't on the toilet or in a bath. He checked in his office and then went into the kitchen, checking his phones for any text messages. That's when he paused, her purse was sitting on the counter next to two soda bottles. Pulling out his pocket square he carefully picked one up, examining it he found nothing strange, but on the other one letters dotting around the label had been scratched off. Comparing it to the other one it took only a moment for him to know exactly what the message she was trying to send him. James Moriarty. Pulling out his phone he dialed the number and Sherlock picked up on the third ring.

"Yes, what is it Mycroft?" Sherlock asked in a cross tone.

"(Y/N) is missing."

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"She's missing, and she left a message, Moriarty is back."  
***

Sherlock was there in five minutes with John and a sleeping Rosie in tow. "Where's the message?" Sherlock asked as he entered the house without knocking. "Kitchen." Mycroft said and his younger brother disappeared for a few moments, returning with what could almost be... Concern? It was then that Mycroft's home phone rang.

"This is Mycroft Holmes." He said as he answered it.

"Ah yes, the ice man, I assume your brother and his play thing are there by now."

"Moriarty." Mycroft said, putting the phone on speaker.

"Yes, long time no chat Mymy, Sherly, Johnny boy."

"Cut to the chase, why are you calling?" Sherlock demanded.

"Isn't it obvious? I've got your little girl."

"Do you want ransom?" John asked.

"Um, no I've already got all the money I could ever need. No, I'm calling to let you know the rules of our newest game." Moriarty said.

"What game?" Sherlock asked.

"The game where you find dear little (Y/N) before I kill her."

"What are the rules?" Mycroft asked.

"Right, I'll give you clues and you work them out within my time limit, if you don't, she dies, if you do, the clock resets and you get another clue."

"Let us talk to her, we need to know she's okay."

"Of course, of course, check your phones." At that moment all of their phones rang at the same time. Opening up the texts they found photos of (Y/N) sitting on a chair with a blindfold on holding up a newspaper. "There's your first clue, you've got one hour to solve it before she bites the dust, bye." He sang the last word before hanging up.

"An apartment of some kind I'd say." Mycroft said. "Judging by the simplistic furnishings it's certainly not a rich man's abode, and-"

"I know where she is." John cut in, looking at his own photo.

"What? How?" Sherlock asked.

"It's my apartment, or, at least, it's the apartment I lived in before I met you." he nodded to Sherlock.

"Let's go." Mycroft said, already up and putting on his coat.

***

When they got there the door was locked and John kicked it in. Inside was exactly like in the photo, except in the chair this time were your clothes, lain out as if they were sitting there, the newspaper propped up against the back of the chair. A phone sitting on the desk rang. Mycroft pulled out his pocket square again, picking up the phone and putting it on speaker. "Mycroft?"

"(Y/N)? Where are you? Are you hurt?" Mycroft asked.

"You have twenty four hours, starting now, to decipher the next clue."

"They aren't going to let you say anything but what they want you to, are they?" Mycroft asked.

"Your next hint can be found where my childhood ended." That's when the line went dead. The three men started looking around the apartment, finding a hidden camera but nothing else.

"Where her childhood ended, where could that be?" John asked, looking at Mycroft who was carefully flipping through the newspaper for any hints. A small smile played at his lips.

"She's helping us." he said.

"What is it?" Sherlock asked, looking over Mycroft's shoulder, the word 'home' in the middle of a paragraph had been punctured with a fingernail. Mycroft dropped the news paper, pulling out his phone as he walked briskly to the car.

"I'll need a jet to America immediately, have it ready for us when we've reached the airfield."


End file.
